A Glimpse of Heaven… a Taste of Hell

I don’t think I’d ever truly experienced the runner’s high until last weekend, 27 miles into my 34 mile ultramarathon race in Lake Tahoe. I was flying down the singletrack trail, literally dancing to my music, completely in awe at the views of the lake. But it wasn’t the music, or the views, that were the real reason why I was so elated. It was because I never thought I’d make it to that moment.

One day I’ll be able to laugh at the series of events that transpired the 48 hours before my race. Two days before the race, I left work early because I felt certain I was getting sick. I forced myself to relax all evening, and by Friday morning, the day before the race, I actually felt a lot better. That lasted for about an hour. Then, in an attempt to clear out wax that was clogging one of my ears, I let water run in my ear, then tilted my head to get the water out. Except the water wasn’t coming out. I took matters into my own hands, and started violently head banging to the side to get the water out. It finally worked!  And then I realized that I had pulled a muscle in my back. As if it couldn’t get any worse, as we were packing up the car, a bird pooped on my back.

I iced my back all day, but it didn’t make a difference. The morning of the race, just walking around to pick up my race bib, my back was in pain. Mentally, I was hurting too. I thought back to all the time I had spent training for the race. I’d sacrificed almost every Saturday morning for the last five months to do long runs with names like “The Beautiful Butt Kicker” and “Waterman Gap Super Loop.” I’d dodged snakes, trudged through the mud, lost my car key in the woods, and got poison oak all over my legs. I’d done my longest run in 100 degree weather, during which I'd ran out of water at one point. It was devastating to think that after all the work I put in, I might not be able to finish the race. But I also wanted to be realistic, and just try to enjoy whatever experience I had. So at the start of the race, I removed all expectations of finishing, and simply told myself to put one foot in front of the other until it hurt too much to do so.

At the starting line, excited for what was to come

The race’s motto is “A Glimpse of Heaven…a Taste of Hell” and that could not be more spot on. The average elevation is 8,000 feet and the course features two major climbs. The first climb wasn’t so bad. My back was hurting, but every step I took, when my hydration pack hit my back and caused more pain, I told myself I was getting a massage and that it was actually a good thing. By the second aid station at mile 12, I was still feeling fresh. Then came the infamous Red House Loop. We descended for what felt like forever. At the three stream crossings at the bottom of the loop, I literally crawled on my hands and knees across the rocks because I knew if I fell and twisted an ankle or messed up my back more, it would be the end of the race for me. The climb back out was one of the toughest parts of the course. I gritted my teeth and hiked on, but it was pretty demoralizing. Plus, my stomach was not super happy (eating 1,800 calories of gels and chews can do that to you). As I was deep in the pain cave, I looked up and saw Owen bounding down the trail! He had hiked out to the nearby aid station and came to find me. It could not have been better timing. We finished the climb together, and he helped me get everything I needed at the next aid station.

Full bar at the first aid station

That guy sure got a taste of hell!

Near the end of the climb out of Red House Loop

One of my favorite moments of the race was coming into the aid station at mile 27. It was manned by a Boy Scout troop, and this young scout came bouncing down the trail, greeted me with a huge smile and said “Hi Breann! How are you doing?” I almost broke down in tears because it was so thoughtful. The scouts were all so eager to help me, filling up my hydration pack, getting me the gels I needed, and filling my bandanna with ice. It was the turning point of the race for me. My stomach pain went away, I told myself that I’d get to the finish line even if I had to crawl, and I just flew.

A glimpse of heaven 

My fastest mile of the whole race was the very last mile. Nine and a half hours after I started, I crossed the finish line. I wanted to cry, smile, and lay down all at the same time.   

I FREAKING DID IT!

After the race, it started thundering and raining as Owen and I enjoyed beer and burritos under the comfort of a tent. I'm so lucky I finished when I did- I think I would have had a mild freak out if I was still out on the course in those conditions. I also got a massage at the station set up right at the finish line. I seriously owe it to the two ladies that massaged me: they scrubbed all the dirt off my blackened feet and legs before letting me on the table. They are champs!  

There are some more thanks in order, first to Owen. He cooked dinner almost every night for months, planned our lives around my Saturday long runs, prepared my Epsom salt foot baths, and when I asked him if he thought I’d be able to finish the race with a bad back, he didn’t hesitate for a second when he said I could do it. He ended up hiking around 8 miles on race day to see me at the aid station, in the heat with little water and no food. He actually got more blisters than I did!  Without his support, I’m not sure I would have finished. Lastly, thanks to everyone else who helped me during training, even if you just asked how it was going or listened to me complain. I truly believe that behind every ultramarathon finisher is a supportive team of family and friends. 

Since the race, I’ve been eating a lot of pizza and getting on a first name basis with our couch. I got a "recovery" massage a couple days ago, which was probably just as painful as the race itself, but instead of the pain spread out over 9 hours, it was compressed into 60 minutes. I know it's helpful though: my back is feeling better, plus Owen and I leave for our motorcycle trip to Alaska in just four days! I won’t be posting from the road, but you can look forward to hearing our stories afterwards. Wish us luck!